


Coach!Eustass Kid x Student!Reader

by crapitskizaru



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen, basketball game, encouraging kiddo vibes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 16:56:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20678768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crapitskizaru/pseuds/crapitskizaru
Summary: [Hello author-sama! I would like to ask for a scenario (or headcanon if you prefer) of Law, Kid, and a character of your choice with an s/o who is rather petite and uses performance-enhancing drugs thinking it is the best/only way to keep up with the rest of the crew. Thank you very much! ]





	Coach!Eustass Kid x Student!Reader

You watched hopelessly as the ball came down through the hoop for a 3-point goal to the enemy team. 

The cheers and shouting hadn’t even subsided when the game clock indicated half-time, starting a break. The break you’d have rather passed on, if only it meant escaping your coach’s piercing glare of disappointment. 

And there he was, already marching towards the benches your team was sat on, expression as furious and wild as usual. You weren’t the only one worried about his judgemental speech that was yet to arrive - reading Zoro’s face like a book, the boy seemed frustrated. He was wiping the sweat out of his forehead when your coach slammed his hands on the bench right next to him. 

“What was _that_?” he spat, sweeping his gaze around the team. “I thought you had attitudes! You wanna be stinkin’ losers forever? Sittin’ here while the other team is celebratin’?” The coach threw his arms out in anger. “I can’t believe this shit!”

“Sorry, coach,” Usopp muttered, nervously tapping the bench. “We’ll try next quarter.” 

“Yes, you will.” Coach pointed at him with his finger, red hair tousled and giving him a devilish vibe, especially when mixed with the flaming passion in his eyes. “You will keep tryin’ until you get what this sport is about. This is not only your _personal _defeat. The whole team will lose if each one of you won’t get your shit together and start playin’ like I taught you!” 

“Yes, coach.” Your team members murmured under their breaths, faces grim. The only one who didn’t seem at all bothered, as per usual, was Luffy; the boy gritting his teeth and shooting provocative glances towards the enemy team, as if challenging them to fight. In one hand he clutched a grand-sized sandwich - he had one for each break in between the quarters. 

Your coach sent him a long glance and, for a split second, his face bent into a smirk. “You’re the biggest hope for this team, Mugiwara. Stubborn idiot.” 

You couldn’t help but smile upon hearing those words, Luffy’s grin growing with pride. During the game, the sight of your team leader never losing his vigor and will to fight always managed to lift your spirits up. 

“I will just go and...grab something from my locker.” You weren’t sure whether anyone had heard you, the team busy with going through the game plan for the millionth time. The smell of sweat and Luffy’s sandwich turned into one of deodorants when you entered the empty changing room. 

Your racing heart seemed to calm down a bit, the courtesy of dim lighting and overall silence; but it soon picked up on its pace again when you remembered just _why _you were there in the first place, and not revising the tactics with your team. 

Hands shaking, you opened your locker and reached for a tiny zip-lock bag underneath your jacket, laying at the bottom. There it was, the last pill, almost like the last obstacle you had to overpower before revealing your true potential. 

You knew you had it in you, somewhere deep and - as for now - hidden. Would you be able to develop it without the drugs? Probably. But why wait, if a much quicker opportunity was right there under your nose? 

It was determination that eventually made your hands stop trembling, a sudden feeling of boldness took over your chest. This had to be done. Even if the game would be lost, at least you’d have done everything in your power to give as much from yourself as possible. 

What if you could do it without the pill? With enough stubbornness, would you be able to get on the same level as Zoro, or even Luffy? Maybe you were just off during the last quarter, maybe if you focused...

There was Nami, with her muscly figure, practically flying around the court; the sheer sight of her was enough to distract all of the people taking part in the game, and adding her skills? She was simply amazing. 

Sanji, with his quick wits and powerful blocks, was always the first one to chase the ball, leading in attack along with Zoro. They were fast, ruthless and effective. When Luffy came into play, there was hardly a team out there that could stop those three together. Adding Usopp and his strategic thinking, there was always a brilliant tactic to perform during the matches. 

And yet, that day’s game wasn’t going as planned. Whether it was the enemy team being simply too good or the overall mood to blame, it didn’t matter. The pill on your palm could give you a boost, maybe even save the game. 

The silence in the room wasn’t helping. It almost felt as if it disapproved of your way of thinking with its overwhelming hush. The layer of sweat on your skin already managed to seep through the clothing, making it sticky and uncomfortable. 

That was it, the break was about to end. Now or never - you squeezed the pill in your hand and reached for a water bottle. 

“What are you doin’?” 

The voice cut through the silence like a knife. Spinning around, you noticed your coach leaning against the doorframe, his face blank. 

“Nothing. I forgot my water bottle.” 

“Is this how it’s gonna be? My own student lyin’ to _me_?” He approached you; you couldn’t stand the heavy gaze of his eyes. “Show me your hand.” 

Your mind turned completely empty, not a single thought to help you in this dire need, your body numb with fear. Even if you wanted to lift your arm, it just refused to cooperate. 

The enemy team you didn’t care about, it was easy to take any step to defeat them in a game. Your own team? They deserved to have you at your best. But your coach - he was the person to teach you how to dribble, how to do jump shots and slam dunks, how to foul someone without a referee noticing. And if he was to acknowledge the fact that you didn’t classify yourself as a good enough player to make it without drugs, you might have as well resigned from the team right then. 

You could only shake your head in denial when his grip tensed on your hand and brought it to light, revealing the white pill. 

“Throw it away.” 

“Coach, I-” 

“Throw it away!” he hissed, sweeping his eyes along the room. “Before someone comes in.” 

On stiff legs, you made it to the nearest trash can and obeyed the order - you wouldn’t dare to do otherwise. He observed closely as you returned to the locker, bitter tears of shame glossy on your cheeks. 

“What do you have to say to me, (Name)?” 

Your nails buried into the skin on your palm. There was nothing in your mind, not one coherent sentence to explain yourself, the perspective of having your coach let down by your actions already burning your guts. 

“Nothin’?” he gritted and took a step forward. Your back touched the cold metal of the lockers. “_Nothin’_? At least stand up for yourself, for Christ’s sake! I taught you better than that!” 

You could see his white button-up shirt flexing from the movements of his body as he slammed one hand against the lockers, pinning you in the process. 

“Tell me why.” His voice continued to be low and restricted, but it rang in the quiet room anyway. “Were you scared? Didn’t wanna see how weak you actually are?” 

“I know how weak I am.” 

“Then why? Runnin’ away from the truth won’t take you anywhere. Face it or get out of my team.” He caught your gaze, still motionless in front of you - people always talked how scary and unpredictable he could get, but for someone who knew him that long, it was more about persuasion than instability. Seeing the anger and impatience in his eyes snapped you out of the panic, offering words instead. 

“I don’t want to drag them down with me.” You took a deep breath. “I know we can win this game. I just need a boost.” 

“Listen to me-” His sentence was cut off by a bell signaling the break was coming to an end. You wanted to move, out of habit, but your coach didn’t as much as flinch so you remained in your spot. 

“If there were some pills, legal or not, that could make you all play better, I’d be the first one to get them. But this,” he pointed at the now-empty bag on the floor with his chin. “This shit will make you better for _some time_. And then you will keep droppin’ lower and lower until you won’t even be able to get out of your damn bed without poppin’ one of those.” 

“Am I supposed to let us lose the game then?” You shivered in frustration, a scorching lump in your stomach growing heavier. There was already loud commotion coming from the direction of the court, the match starting any minute.

“Yes! Lose this game, lose ten other games after this! Face it and keep trainin’.” He finally moved away and fidgeted with the collar of his shirt, purposefully making it more crooked than before. “Life is harsh, baby boo. Truth hurts. But it’s better than some dumb tricks that don’t do shit anyway.” 

You wiped your nose and snorted. “Aren’t you going to report this to someone?”

Another sound indicated the start of the game. Your coach rolled his eyes and directed you towards the door with a slight push at the small of your back. “To the referees? Bunch of pricks. They’d kick you out of the team and I’d have to deal with recruitin’ someone new, then trainin’ them from the start, yadda, yadda, yadda. Borin’. Ain’t no one got time for that.” 

“Coach?” you stopped before the door and shot him a glance. 

“What?” 

“Thank you.” 

It was his turn to snort as he gestured for you to hurry up. “Yeah, that’s right. Thank God for me. Now get your ass out there.” 

The sight of your team already on the court gave you a boost of confidence when you jogged over to them, trying to forget about the wasted pill in the changing room. 

The game flew even quicker than normally - it was a mixture of blocking, passing and sneakily elbowing the opponents in the guts when the referee’s head was turned in the other direction, just as your coach taught you. 

He was constantly shouting out last-second tips for you and also some heavy insults at the enemy team. No one dared to point it out though, and you were proud to have him as a mentor; after all, it wasn’t easy to intimidate the whole team, the spectators _and _all the referees at the same time. 

The game clock was merciless, showing less and less time until the end of the match. The score was almost even, but there were still a couple of points left for a tie. 

“(Name)-chan!” Sanji threw a bounce pass - as soon as you felt the ball in your hand, a surge of adrenaline washed over your entire body. Before you were able to assess the situation, breath got punched out of your chest when an opponent launched themselves onto you and knocked you onto the floor. 

“Oi! The fuck was that?” You heard your coach’s yell mixing with a loud whistle as you quickly gathered yourself from the floor. 

“(Name), you okay?” Nami asked and you answered with a short nod. 

“I’m screwin’ your mom!” Your team grinned upon hearing the shout of your coach, directed towards the player that fouled you. That man knew how to boost morale, that was for sure. “And your dad too!” 

Laughter died in your throat as quickly as it appeared when you noticed there were 10 seconds left till the end of the game - the ball being handed to you by the referee as he granted your team two free throws. 

Focus, you thought to yourself and fixed your position on the court. The cheering of the people was muffled by the rushing of blood in your ears, your hands trembling around the ball. 

“Just shoot,” your leader chimed from behind your back. “Whatever happens, happens. It’s okay!” 

You couldn’t help but smile up to him. He was right; whatever was going to happen, at least it will be the truth. 

During the first throw, the ball landed perfectly in the hoop and you earned an immerse chanting of the crowd. You searched for your coach - he was there, casually sprawled on the bench as if he already knew the result of the game, a slight smirk on his lips. 

Your arms and legs went numb during the second throw. Everyone’s eyes were on the ball as it balanced on the ring of the hoop, your breath held back and then taken away from you as if it was another foul when the ball leaned to the side and plopped down onto the floor, missing the shot. 

A triumphant roar of the opponents filled your mind when the score indicated their win. 

“Good game!” Luffy sprinted past, patting you on the back. His hair all tousled and dripping with sweat, shirt sticking to his skin. “See you at the training!” 

The rest of the team made their way to the changing room as well, but not without giving you a quick hug and a few encouraging words. Zoro was the last one to leave the court as he sent you a thumbs-up and reached for his water bottle.

“So?” 

You still stood in the same place when your coach approached you, arms crossed on his huge chest. 

“’_So?_’ We lost the game. Just as I thought.” 

“So what? There will be another chance.” His voice was as nonchalant as ever. “Now get your ass out of here.” 

“But-” 

“You better be on the practice tomorrow.” 

You struggled to argue but soon gave up and puffed out a surrendering breath. “Coach?” 

“What is it this time?” 

“Thank you.” 

He just smirked again and gave you a teasing nudge as you walked off the basketball court together.


End file.
